"Oh, by the way!" she said; "here is a letter that came by last night's mail. I forgot to give it to you."
He glanced at the envelope. "Great Heavens! It is life and death to me, and you forget it to tell Jack's pert sayings!" He read the letter and threw it down.
"What is it, George?" she asked humbly.
"Burnett & Hoyle offer me a place in their house."
"Mr. Hoyle is an old friend of mine. I wrote to him. What is the salary, George?"
"Forty dollars a week. I could earn more as a coachman—for some rich heiress."
"But George dear—— It would be a beginning. They are brokers, and there are so many short cuts to fortune in that business! Do try it, my son."
"Of course I'll try it. Do you think I'm a fool? It will keep me from starving. But I want something else in life than to be kept from starving, mother."
He stretched out his arms with a groan, and walked to the window. She followed him with wretched, comprehending eyes. Why did not Lucy give him her fortune? Any woman would be honored who could give George her fortune.
"I always have heard that brokers know the short cuts to wealth," she said calmly. "You go on the Street some day, and come back a millionaire."